Battle Of The Bulge


Of  yesterday and today the meaning is not the same

Both are war, both are hell, neither a game for the meek to play

Not now a tank we do stare down, nor goon squads dancing upon our throats

Tis a battle where once proud chests we did hold high

The enemy now our mirrors showing them resting upon our thighs

This battle of the bulge of which I now speak

Is today the weight of our bellies, butts, and thighs

Today we only exercise our thumbs

Upon the latest store bought game we play

Today if we walk at all, it’s just to the fridge to reload

We can now even buy the bulge within our pants

Just break your piggy and give the Drug Store man your change

Our modern world is built upon luxury

As our ever falling bellies do profess

Is it any wonder why our frames are in distress

We buy our garments way to big

We hide our flab in the way we dress

Will we even fit in the box when they lay us down to rest

When we all die at thirty-five

Of diabetes and heart disease?

2 thoughts on “Battle Of The Bulge

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